


Short, Sweet, and Sarcastic

by raspberryseedz



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Platonic Romance, Romance, Slice of Life, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-05-28 13:02:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6330298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspberryseedz/pseuds/raspberryseedz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles/very short pieces of Nick and Judy cracking wise, solving crimes, living life, doing what they do. Moves from more platonic to romantic. Some set during the movie, some after. Basically a little bit of everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sutures, Courthouse, Academy

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing a lot of drabble exercise (or technically over 100 words but still super short) type things for these two. So, rather than post them one by one I'm gonna try to group about three a chapter so there's at least some length to them. They aren't technically meant to be sequential or anything, there's gonna be a bit of a mix. And dialogue. Lots of dialogue.

**Sutures**

* * *

 

Judy scrunched her eyes shut against the pain local anesthesia couldn't quite cover. The nurse, a very round, portly bear dressed in green scrubs, leaned over her leg, stitching her back up. Nick occupied himself by trying to look in every possible direction besides the little table where the suturing was being done. Which, given that they were in a tiny examination room with white walls, white cabinets, and a white sink, got very boring very quickly.

"It's like the interior designer's version of white bread," he commented, more to himself than anything.

Judy made a small, exasperated kind of groan. Just enough to indicate she'd heard him. Her fingernails were digging into the stuffing of the, much too big for her size, hospital bed. He patted her paw.

"Maybe it'll scar," he told her optimistically. He dared a glance at her foot. The spotlight from nurse bear's dual-light glasses on the area with the needle and ripped jeans and too much red immediately made him avert his eyes.

"You'll have more street cred than me, Carrots. And I was shot today. Kind of."

Her paw turned over and somehow caught his palm. He let her squeeze the life out of his fingers for a long minute. Her eyes cracked open a little.

"Thanks for that, Wilde," she said through clenched teeth.

"You're welcome, Hopps," he replied.

* * *

 

**Courthouse**

 

"Tuck in your shirt," Judy chided him. "You're supposed to look professional."

"Sorry, I've never been a witness before. I didn't realize this was a professional kinda gig." He rolled his eyes.

Judy's hands met her hips, leveling a very dry look up at him. "I'm not sure you're aware, but this is a _teensy_ bit of a big deal, Nick."

"I got the memo, cottontail."

"So, you don't want to give the impression you aren't taking this seriously," she explained, a mite too slowly. He'll take it to his grave, but he finds her bossiness a little endearing.

"I'm not the one on trial."

"You are gonna be cross-examined, though, so…" Judy let the sentence hang, her foot tapping absently against the tiled floor. Her nose was twitching a little.

"You aren't _nervous_ , are you, Hopps?" He asked pointedly.

"Of course I'm nervous," Judy fired back, not even bothering to try hiding it. "I've never done this before." Her arms crossed around her middle, the lavender jacket she wore creasing sharp at her elbows. She was in this crisp pantsuit that made her look like she was running for public office.

"Alright, alright," he raised his hands in mock surrender. "For you, Carrots, the shirt goes in the pants."

She snorted, looking just a tad embarrassed.

"I like you in purple, by the way," he announced casually, tucking the ends of his shirt in. "Very, what was it? Professional?" He smoothed out the creases in his shirt, straightening his collar and adjusting his tie. Truthfully, he was a little nervous, too. The DA was pretty confident the trial was a slam dunk, and they'd already given their testimony quite a few times. But there was always the nagging, ever present fear that even with all the evidence their story would not be believed.

Judy's eyes traced over him, toe to head, very quickly. Her mouth quirked to the side.

"What?" Nick asked, holding out his arms. "It's not that bad, is it?"

She didn't say anything. Instead she leaned forward on her toes and reached up to his collar. Her finger hooked around the knot of his tie, pulling it loose, just a little.

The doors to the courthouse opened at last. Judy took in a deep breath, steeling herself. "Alright, this is it!" She turned on a heel and took towards the stairs where the crowd was beginning to file in.

"Hey Judy," he called after her. She stopped, already halfway up to the mammoth building.

"Yeah?" She turned her head.

"You're not on trial, either. Okay?"

She smiled, nodding in understanding. "Okay."

* * *

**Academy**

 

A police officer's job was at least sixty percent paperwork. Or computer work, if you wanted to be accurate. Judy didn't exactly cherish the hours spent tapping away at a keyboard, but she held no deep disdain for them either. It was all just part of the job. The whole thing could get rather tedious though.

She had been at it for almost three hours when, without warning, something slid over her eyes and completely blocked her vision.

"I know what you're thinking," a familiar voice sounded, right next to her ear. "Have I gone blind?"

"Nick!" She whirled around in her chair and his paws left her eyes. She threw her arms around his waist hard enough he had to step back to avoid losing his balance. She hadn't seen him in weeks. She'd been swamped at work and he'd been at the academy.

"Woah, Carrots," he laughed, "Police reports can't be that bad."

"You'll find out soon enough," she said, releasing him.

"Well, that doesn't sound the least bit foreboding," he said sarcastically.

"How is the academy? Tell me everything."

He settled against her desk, propped up on his elbows. "Well, I'm pretty sure polar bear lady hates me."

"Gloria? She hates everyone on principle. You just have to earn her respect."

"Gee, why didn't I think of that. Also, general observation, you could've warned me about the beds."

"I told you this wasn't gonna be a cush gig, fox."

"Un-cush, I can handle. I was prepared for un-cush," he insisted. "What I was _not_ prepared for is metaphorically dying in half a dozen topographical arenas on a daily basis. I haven't been this sore _in my life_." He self consciously rubbed his arm through his winter jacket. "Now I know how you got so ripped."

"Give it time, Wilde." Judy said, patting his shoulder, teasing and, admittedly yes, a little patronizing. Just a tad. She knew it never would've worked this way, but she almost wished that, somehow, they had managed to meet sooner. It would've been easier to handle, she thought, if they had gotten to go through the academy together.

"But if you will allow me to gloat _a little_ ," he slipped into his half lidded smirk, going into his jacket pocket and pulling out a sheet of paper that had been folded over twice. Judy took it from him, curiosity piqued, and spread it out over her keyboard.

Her eyes bulged. "Holy god, Nick!"

"I know, right?"

"A perfect score!" She punched him proudly in the arm and the fox's smug grin was warped with pain for an instant.

"Yeah, still hurts," he groaned.

* * *

 


	2. Chase, Joke, Decaf, Defiance, Caring

**Chase**

Judy rounded the corner, hot on the tail of her guy.  Their chase had lead through the south end of an industrial complex, long alleys and tall buildings clumped together in grids.  She raced past a bank and around an insurance firm and straight into a large, deserted back lot.  Nothing there but a full dumpster and dead lamppost.  For a second she worried she’d lost him, and then the click of a metal door falling closed alerted her to the building he'd disappeared into.  She burst in to find a narrow service stair well, all metal and dark and winding. Her perpetrator was racing above, halfway to the third floor.  Judy bolted.

“Wilde, my guy’s headed to the roof of the Weston Insurance Firm,” she said into her handset, “either we’re gonna run out of room real quick or he knows something I don't know.”

“Hang tight, Hopps,” Nick’s voice crackled on the little radio, obscured by sounds of jostling and feet hitting pavement and his heavy breathing. “I'm almost there. Don't start without me.” The last part came out rushed and just faintly scolding.

“10-4.”

She got all the way up to the roof, gaining slowly but surely on her target.  He'd violently slammed the door to the roof entrance just seconds before she got there.  She threw the door open only for the swishing sound of about five somethings, sharp and streaking straight for her, caused her reflexes to jump and slam the door shut again.  There was a dull crack on the side of the door as the weapons hit useless against metal.

Judy froze, all momentum she’d accumulated ground to a halt, her paw still gripping the door handle, trying to catch her breath.  That was a little close.

She didn't know how long she sat inside the stairwell, ear to the door, waiting for the tell tale sound of movement somewhere on the open roof outside. When she finally did pick up something, it was in the opposite direction, the sound of running echoing louder and louder through the stairwell below.

“Carrots,” Nick climbed the last few steps, filing in beside her at the top. “What happened?” He was breathing heavily from all the running, but otherwise looked alright.

“He started tossing spines,” she explained.

Nick winced. “He's gotten desperate.”

“What happened to your guy?”

“Getaway car,” he said, “Francine picked up the trail on Harbor street.”

“You think they'll try to come back for porcupine?” She nodded at the door, or rather what was behind it.

“There's no honor among thieves, Carrots, you know that.” Nick gave a quiet little laugh, “I almost feel sorry for the guy. Buddies took off with the loot. Got himself trapped on the roof of an eight story building. Poor sap.”

“I can't hear anything,” Judy commented. “What if he found a way to climb down?”

“Seriously?”

“Well, what would you do if you were him?”

“He could be waiting for you to open the door so he can take another shot. How good is his aim?”

Judy’s nose twitched, worried, if only for a second. “Well, we aren't gonna find out waiting on these stairs.” She pulled herself up.

Nick reached over her, paw on the door, holding it back for a moment.  “Slow this time, okay?”

“Okay, okay,” she waved him away, “by the wall,” she instructed.

Nick stepped back, pressing himself against the far wall, huddled in the narrow bar of safety between the wall and the frame of the door.  Judy did the same, as much as she could with her paw still gripping the door handle. 

On the count of three, she yanked the thing open.  They braced themselves for an onslaught of flying spines but nothing happened. Judy removed her cap, tossing it out into the void of the dark roof to test it.  No response.

“See anything?” She whispered. 

Nick peeked tentatively around the doorframe. “No,” he leaned out further, “No, he's not there.”  

The two moved carefully out onto the roof, flashlight in tow, scanning the empty rooftop. It was the most agonizing and slow minute of her entire evening.  Chases she could handle. Chases were fun. Chases allowed you to spend the excess of adrenaline instead of letting it grow into a writhing mess of nerves inside your stomach.  This slow, creeping around in the dark, waiting for something to happen thing, was torture. 

“He's not here!” She started to hiss, growing agitated.  They had waited too long. 

“That's impossible!” He shouted, loud and a little hammy. When she leveled him a concerned look he silently mouthed _‘Play along.’_

“Oh, where could he be?” She said, paw to her chest, matching his twinge of overacting.

“He couldn't have just flown away.”

They split.  He took the right side around to the front facing the deserted street, she took the left and the back. Peeking over the roof’s edge she became grimly aware just how high up they were. The wind was noticeably more active and cold against her ears.  The walls stretched beneath her, little divots marking the rows of office windows almost disappeared with the skewed perspective.  Her light barely reached the bottom, a vague little spot on the blank sidewalk.

Her ears perked.  Something metallic groaned and creaked, and all of a sudden Nick was calling for her. “Hey, Hopps.  Eureka.”

She rushed over and followed the path his flashlight created down the front of the building.  Squinting painfully against the sudden light was her porcupine perpetrator.  He was standing on the narrow ledge created by the building’s front marquee, both arms and stomach were spread flat against the wall, as if he could cling to the seamless steel better that way.

“How’s it hangin’, pal?” Nick leaned forward, one foot braced on the slab of concrete along the edge of the roof.

“You aren’t gonna take me, copp’r,” the porcupine spat back.

Judy stared down at him.  “We’ve got you on counts of armed robbery, evading arrest-”

“In a minute, Hopps, I think his mind’s a little occupied at the moment.”

Judy shook her head, looking around for something to pull the man up with.  Why was it no one agreed to come quietly, even once they’ve been caught fair and square?  She had her baton, but that wouldn’t be nearly long enough.  The standard issue pawcuffs had an adjustable chain, made to accommodate a variety of mammal sizes, but even that looked too short to cross the distance they needed.

“We’ll have to send for rope or a net or a crane or something to get him down,” she told Nick.  He reached for his handheld radio to call it in.

“You aren't gonna take me,” the porcupine said again, a little shakier this time.

“Sir, what’s your name?” Judy asked, leaning with both arms braced on the ledge.

“None of your goddamn business.”

Judy could literally feel her patience slipping. “Sir, this will be a lot easier if you choose to cooperate. You’re in a very dangerous spot.  I'd rather take you to the ZPD as a person than a pancake, okay?”

As if it heard her, the sign started to creak, an ugly, foreboding, metallic noise.  It rocked suddenly.  Porcupine started to scream. They couldn’t afford to wait for any back up.  

In her growing panic Judy almost didn’t notice Nick go for her cuffs until he’d already snatched one end from her and locked it together with a cuff on his own set.  He yanked out the chain to it’s maximum length. She could almost hear him scolding her in her mind. _Not long enough?  We’ve got two sets here, dumb bunny. Multiply._

She held her end of the linked cuffs tight and leapt off the ledge at the porcupine, just as the marquee sign started to peel away from the wall.

* * *

 

**Joke**

Chief Bogo was halfway through handing out assignments when a small giggle drew his attention to the front of the bullpen.

Hopps was attempting to cover a huge grin behind her fist and Wilde was staring straight ahead, unblinking, fighting back a smile that kept fluctuating in size as he tried to push it back.  Both were failing.

“Hopps!  Wilde!” The chief barked.  “Something you would like to share with the class?” His arms crossed over his chest.

“No, sir,” Hopps muttered, fist still obscuring her face.  She straightened.  For a second she looked like she’d regained her composure and then a bubble of giggles overtook her.  She covered her mouth with her paws and glanced conspiratorially at her partner.  The fox’s shoulders started to shake.  And then his eyes screwed shut as he started to giggle along with her.

“What’s so amusing?” Bogo demanded.

“Sorry, Chief,” Wilde chuckled.  “It’s kind of an inside joke.”

* * *

 

**Decaf**

“You’re the intern, right?” Nick sidled up to the young zebra.  “Manky…?”

“Marcus,” the zebra corrected him.

“Close enough.  Here, hold this,” he handed off an empty paper cup of what was once coffee.  Marcus furrowed his brow, confused.  

“Pro tip, kid, you see that rabbit,” Nick pointed across the reception hall to Judy in the middle of a very animated conversation with Clawhauser.  They made something of a pair, bright eyes and wide grins.  Clawhauser's head bobbed up and down along with Judy's persistent hopping.

The zebra turned back, still missing the point. “Yeah…”

“The rabbit always gets decaf.  Understood?”

His eyes rotated from the bouncing rabbit and back to the fox in giant aviator sunglasses.  “You mean coffee?”

“Now you’re catching on.  Repeat after me,” Nick leaned in, enunciating every word like he was teaching a proverb to a child.  “The rabbit. Always. Gets. Decaf.”

“The... rabbit always gets decaf?” Marcus repeated.

“Or we are all  _ doomed _ .”

The zebra stared at him blankly until Nick gestured that he should keep going.  “Or we are all doomed,” Marcus finished in a confused monotone.

“Very good.” Nick straightened, clapping the younger, yet larger, animal on the knee.  “Carry on, kid.  And don’t forget.”  He started to walk away, adding “I have faith in you, Mark,” over his shoulder as an afterthought.

Marcus stood alone in the foyer looking very bewildered for several minutes.

* * *

 

**Defiance**

“You can't take me off the Gibson case,” Nick cut into the chief’s office, skipping straight to the point.

Bogo lowered the report he was skimming onto his desk. “Officer Wilde, do come in,” he said in a tone of voice that indicated he'd much rather the fox do the exact opposite.

“Chief, you can't take me off. You can't reassign me,” he repeated. It was the most fiercely serious Bogo had ever seen him, admittedly not a high bar to reach, but still.

“Wilde, if you think I'm putting you on a stakeout mission you are out of your blooming mind.”

“I happen to be quite good at stealth, thanks.”

“I happen to not really care.”

“Listen, if this is about the ‘can’t help myself’ comment the other day, you should know I was at least seventy-five percent joking,” Nick wobbled one paw back and forth to show it could go a little ways in either direction. Typical Wilde snark was starting to creep back in.

“Last I checked,” Bogo began, very slowly, “I am still the senior officer in this precinct, am I not?”

Nick let out a groan, visibly deflating. “I didn't say-”

“And it is my responsibility and discretion to assign officers where and when I see fit, is it not?”

“That wasn't my-”

“And you are, as of this moment, a rookie officer, are you not?”

“Do you just _like_ interrupting-”

“So, can you explain to me, how we have come to this situation where a rookie officer barges, unannounced, into the office of his superior purporting to know better who should be assigned where?”

Nick’s response was definite and immediate. The verbal equivalent of stamping a foot to the ground. “We’re partners, sir. You can't split us up.”

Bogo leaned back in his high leather chair, letting the fox stew for a moment. The crisp uniform and challenging glare did nothing to distract Bogo from remembering the circumstances of their first meeting.  He hadn't changed really, in Bogo’s estimation.  Just months out of the academy and he was still scrawny and short and didn't know when to shut up. He was hardly the personality type one would expect from a police officer. A good officer, at least the ideal, was strong, thoughtful, spoke only when they had to, brave, loyal, sense of propriety, knew how to take orders.  A good officer respected the system they were tasked to uphold.  Bogo didn’t have to know Nick Wilde very well personally to know that he did not.

“Wilde,” he began carefully, “are you aware of why you were assigned to this precinct?”

He shrugged like the answer was simple and a little irrelevant, “Because of Judy.”

“Officer Hopps requested you, yes.  And while she has fast become something of a VIP around here, she is not much less of a rookie than you, and hardly has the authority to pick people.”

Bogo wished he could’ve snapped a picture of the fox’s face at that exact moment.  Ears back, head tilted, blank confusion dawning suddenly into realization.

“You were assigned to this precinct because _I_ asked for you,” Bogo explained.  “Would you care to guess why?”

“Because if Judy decides to run straight into a fire I’m the only one that can talk her out of it.”

Like a man truly of few words, Bogo said nothing, only tipped his glasses down his nose to stare at the fox over the thin frames.

“Fine.  Because if Judy decides to run straight into a fire I’m the one that’s going in after her.”

“You aren’t going to cite your own success?” Bogo said, baiting.  “How high you ranked at the academy.  The Bellwether case.”

“Since we were speaking rhetorically I figured I’d skip straight to the point, sir.  You need me to keep up with Hopps.”

“I do, do I?” Bogo crossed his arms, challenging.  “She was a pretty good officer even before you came on the scene, y’know.”

“I know it.”

“She’s smarter than you.”

“Statistically someone would have to be.”

“She’s lived her whole life with the aspiration to do this job.  She eat, sleeps, and breathes it.”

He didn’t have anything to say to that.  He just shrugged lamely.  

“Wilde, you wouldn’t know this because I don’t care to talk about myself--”

“I never noticed.”

Bogo continued on unphased. “But ten years ago, when I was an underling to someone else in this precinct, I did something my chief officer expressly disapproved of.”

“Really?” The fox’s ears perked up, literally.  “Do tell.”

“You do not need to know the details.  All you need to know is that I defied my superior.  And a man’s name was cleared and a life was saved.”

“No offense, but you really should _not_ narrate stories. Little hint, Chief, it’s hard to believe something like that when you don’t give any details.  Some people, places, and things.  Try a couple prepositional phrases here or there-”

“Skipping to the point,” Bogo grunted. “I wasn’t the most decorated officer.  But when the time came, I was appointed the new chief.”

“Because you disregarded one order?”

“Because I did the right thing,” Bogo insisted.  “Even when it would’ve been safer to keep my mouth shut and follow orders.  I thought I would never forget that moment, but-”

But somehow he had.  He’d gotten so used to everyone around him taking his opinion as law that it absolutely floored him when a little bunny had the audacity to go over his head and take her own case, when he was in the room no less.  But even that act of defiance failed to produce what Nick managed to not much more than a day later.  A sense of shame.

“I know you aren’t here out of a deep devotion to justice or duty or whatever else provokes a man to take this job.  But for whatever reason you signed up, I asked for you.  Because I’m not so thick-headed as to assume I’m never going to be wrong about something. And someone here’s gotta have the guts to tell me.”

“So, wait…” Nick held up one finger, holding on to the thought, “You wanted me _for my back talk?_ ”

“I wanted you because you were right.  And because you don’t look at the system like a damned sacred temple the way the rest do.  A little defiance, for a good reason, can be worthwhile.

“However,” here he stuck his pointed hoof directly under the fox’s snout.  “Choose your moments _very carefully_.  I can’t have you storming in here every time I need to break up your little slumber party. And I will not hesitate to punish you for insubordination.”

“Aww, Chief, you really do care,” Nick said, sarcastic but probably not sarcastic enough.  

“Shut your mouth, Wilde,” he said evenly.  “You are dismissed.”

Nick gave a slightly lazy salute and moved towards the door.  The smug grin was back.  Bogo couldn't help but wonder if he'd made a huge mistake.

“And Wilde,” Bogo stopped him just before exiting.  “You’re back on the Gibson case. Get moving.”

* * *

 

**Caring**

Bogo pushed open the door to his office, coffee in hoof, arms full of stacks upon stacks of case files. He immediately froze in shock and horror at the gruesome state of his office.

Some intruder had broke in and strung ribbon after ribbon of pink and red heart shaped streamers all across the ceiling.  They twisted, playfully abhorrent, from the motion if the opening door as if they were taunting him.  Heart confetti littered the floor.  The most indecent travesty of all, a giant stuffed pink bear with a heart drawn onto it’s belly, sat smiling amicably in his chair, peeking over his work space with it's unsettling black stitched doe-eyes.

Bogo took a deep breath.

“ _WILDE!_ ” His bellow echoed throughout the station.

One floor below Judy looked at Nick and Nick looked at Judy and after a silent beat they both instantly broke into a run.  They expertly dodged the crowd hanging around the front desk, skirted past the bullpen, nearly upsetting the water cooler in their haste to get to the back door.  They burst out of the station and made a break for their car, Judy fumbling at her pockets for the keys as she ran.

“Sounds like the chief got his birthday present,” Nick grinned mid-sprint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading/commenting and all that! It's nice to know people are having fun and I really appreciate the feedback.


	3. You Never Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for something completely sort of different!  
> I never intended this collection to be sequential or tied together by anything. But some ideas turned out longer than others and this ended up having more than one isolated "scene" so it gets it's own chapter.

 

Fru Fru had her baby coincidentally the same day Judy had her leg sutures removed.  Nick remembered it because he read the text announcement to her while she was waiting for the nurse to call her in.  He also remembered it because of the uncomfortable knot of terror when a follow up text inviting them to the christening ceremony appeared.  He didn’t respond to it.

A more formal invitation, sealed envelope and gold trimmed and smelling faintly of lilacs and baby's breath, showed up in his mail the next day.

“Of course I’m going.  Why wouldn’t I be going?” Judy said when he asked her about it.  She was scrolling through something on her phone, only half paying attention to her food.

“Because he tried to kill us,” Nick stabbed at his plate of noodles for emphasis.

“We cleared that whole thing up.  He’s helping us now.”

“Because you’re a cop and he's a crime lord and one day soon you’ll probably have to book him for something.”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

“Because when a mob boss formally invites you to a party it usually means he’s planning your funeral.”

“You have no faith in people, do you?” Judy glanced up at him for a brief second.

“No, I have the right kind of faith in people,” he explained.  “That’s the difference.”  

“What do you think he’s gonna do? I’m their appointed godmother. Remember?”

“Yeah.  He likes  _ you _ ,” he turned his fork, pointing at her.  “I’ll always be the reason his grandmother’s coffin smells of skunk butt.”

Judy shook her head and sighed, as if to say _now,_ _whose fault is that?_  “Well, you’ll just stick with me and everything will be fine,”  Judy said with a breezy, natural optimism.  She looked down at her phone and her voice suddenly jumped an octave and her ears fell back.  “Awww, look how tiny!” She cooed.  The phone was turned around and shoved towards his nose.  On the screen was a photo of shrew-sized baby booties. In actual size they were probably too small to hold a grain of rice.

“Just darling,” Nick deadpanned. “Carrots, we really have to talk about your self preservation tactics.” 

She took her phone back.  “What? I’m excited! I’ve never been a godmother before.”

“Don’t you have like a billion siblings?”

Judy dismissed that with a flap of her paw.  “It’s not the same.  You don’t really get to spoil your siblings.  When you have the same parents it gets too complicated.”

Nick shrugged, taking her word for it.  He pushed around the remainder of his lunch with his fork.  Among the noodles were several large chunks of cooked cabbage.  Nick’s snout wrinkled under his eyes and he tapped at Judy’s plate to get her attention away from her online phone shopping.

“Rabbits like cabbage, right?” He asked.

She glanced up at him through her thick lashes. “Are you asking if rabbits like cabbage or if I like cabbage?”

In lieu of answering he rotated his plate so the pile of cabbage chunks were facing her and slid the whole thing several inches in her direction.  Judy stared at him for a poignant moment and finally picked up her fork, eating off of his plate.

“So,” she said, swallowing down a mouthful of the stuff.  “Do you wanna keep being paranoid, or do you wanna go halfsies on these onesies?” She lifted her phone, which indeed sported a photo of extremely miniature baby pajamas, and waved it enticingly back and forth.

“My god, Hopps, you’ve stopped using words.”

Judy took that in stride.  She ate another bite from his plate and then said, “Honestly, Nick, if I were you, it would be a far riskier move to  _ not _ go.”

* * *

 

She was right, of course.  Regardless if he was or was not back in Mr. Big’s good graces, once he’d been invited there wasn’t a thing in all creation that could excuse his absence without creating another personal insult.  And Judy would be there, so it would probably be safe.  Probably.

And so that Friday afternoon he dug out his suit, hung it on the rod with his shower curtain and ran the hot water in an attempt to steam the wrinkles out.  He got takeout early, anticipating whatever food served at the event would be thumbnail sized and it would be too late to get anything on the way back.  As the the clock approached four he went for his phone, sending Judy a text in case she wasn’t off of work just yet.

_ Hey, can you talk? _

After a minute his phone buzzed.

_ Call you in 5? _

_ Ok _

Always true to her word, in exactly five minutes his phone rang.  “What’s up?” She chirped when he answered.

“So, I know this is last minute, but I wanted to know if you’re driving to the shindig tonight.  And, follow up question, if you are, would you mind give me a ride?” He asked.  He loosened his striped tie enough to pull it off his head without completely undoing the knot and hooked the loop onto the knob of the bathroom door, letting it hang there.  “I’d rather not do the whole public transportation thing while dressed up like stockholder.”

“Shindig? What shindig?”

“Y’know, the infant naming ceremony thing,” he eased open the door and was met with a cloud of steam. He slid into the narrow space, batting away the fog so he could check on his clothes.  “The presentation of little Judy shrew.”

“That’s on Saturday, isn’t it?” Judy’s voice sounded apprehensive.

Nick turned off the running water, hoping he’d misheard her. “Hopps, the thing is  _ tonight _ .”

The bout of sudden quiet was almost painful.  “I was sure it’s tomorrow,” she said slowly, the cheeriness leaked out of her voice like a busted balloon. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me, you actually  _ forgot? _ ”

“I did not forget,” she protested, “it’s on my calendar for tomorrow. I must’ve got the date wrong.”

Nick slumped down, sitting on the lid of his toilet with a mixture of bafflement, dread, and, admittedly, a touch of smugness.  “Well,” he said finally.  “LIttle miss organized got the day wrong.”

“Nick, are you sure?” Her voiced raised, growing excited.

“Of course I’m sure,” he replied, matching her.  He got up and out of the bathroom, ranting as he went. “I’ve had this day memorized for weeks.  I have five alarms on my phone for it.  It’s written on every scrap of paper I own.  I got it  _ tattooed _ on the back of my  _ eyelids _ .” He scanned his fridge, hastily tearing at the array of bills and notices that wallpapered its front until he found the one piece of cardstock trimmed in gold.  He ripped it off, letting the  _ Wild Times _ novelty magnet crash hard against the floor.

“I am holding the invite in my hand,” he narrated for her benefit, “... request the honor of your presence yadda yadda, bluh bluh bluh, Friday the twenty-seventh at six pm.  That’s, what, hour and a half from now.”

“Augh, cheese and crackers,” Judy hissed.  He was pretty sure he heard a thump in the background.

“Somebody really needs to teach you how to swear properly, farm girl.”

“Shut up, Nick!  I’m trying to figure out how to get to the precinct, get home and changed and then out to Tundratown and not be late,” she was talking a mile a minute now, completely in impatient mode.

“Well, what’s your 20?”

“I’m on the 405, just past Wallaby,” she groaned.

“The Outback? Sweetheart, you’ll be lucky to get back to the precinct by six.”

“I’m turning on the sirens,” she announced.  The blare overtook the receiver, he could barely hear her over the noise.  Good use of police resources, there.  “Nick!” She shouted.  “Can you get to the ZPD? Fast?”

“Yeah,” he shouted back, wincing against all the extra background noise. “Why?”

“I’m heading for the surface streets.  I think if I hurry, I can cut around traffic and make it to the station by five-thirty,” she explained without pause.

“That just gives thirty minutes to get to Tundratown.”

“I know, I know,” she barked.  “I need you to do something for me.  I need you to get my spare key, go to my apartment, get my dress and the baby’s present and meet me back at the police station.  If I don’t have to make the detour home we might actually make it in time.”

“Alright, alright,” Nick sped back into his bathroom, fueled by the rapid fire pace of her instructions.  He pulled his suit off the hangar with one hand and held the phone to his ear with the other and began hastily switching out his clothes.  One leg shoved into his black pants and the other kicked his old ones aside simultaneously.  “Where’s your key?” He slowed ever so slightly, “It’s not under the welcome mat, is it?”

He could practically hear Judy’s eyes roll, “Yes, Nick, I’m a complete idiot,” she said in a voice absolutely dripping with her version of bright sarcasm.  “Of course, it’s not under the welcome mat.  It’s in my locker at the station.”

Nick stopped, one arm stuck in his shirt sleeve.  “How am I supposed to get it there?”

“I’ll call Clawhauser and tell him I need you to have it.  He’ll let you in. He’s in charge of everybody’s locker combinations.”

“Uh huh,” Nick frowned.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you,” Judy raised her voice even louder.

“I said I’ll try,” he answered.  He stumbled at his closet, a little sliding panel that had gotten royally stuck halfway open two years ago and he hadn’t managed to fix.  He tucked inside and started digging around for a solid colored tie.

“Okay and Nick?  It’s the purple dress with the ruffles on it.”

“Okay.”

“And the present is on the table by the door.  It’s really, really tiny so don’t lose it.”

“Don’t lose tiny present. Got it.”

“And don’t forget shoes, they’re the only ones in there.”

“You’re wearing shoes?”

“Thank you so much, Nick!  I’ll see you soon.”  And with that she hung up.

* * *

 

Cops were usually very suspicious mammals.  In Nick’s experience most mammals tended to be of the suspicious sort, but cops especially so.  Judy didn’t exactly defy the type. Cheerful though she was, she was equally gung ho about her job and far from blindly trusting.  

Clawhauser, on the other paw.

“You look spiffy, where you off to?” the cheetah had his face bunched in both paws, leaning forward over the counter.

Nick actually had to look down before he remembered what he was wearing.  “I’m, uh, I’m Nick. I’m here for Judy-”

“Oh, Judy’s key!” Clawhauser interrupted.  “Yeah, I got it for you right here.”  The dispatch officer disappeared momentarily behind the counter, his spotted tail flicking up for just an instant before the rest of him reappeared.  “Judy told me you were in a hurry so I took it out of her locker for ya.”  His fist reached out and then opened and a little silver key dropped into Nick’s paws.  Just like that.

“So where’re you guys going?  An opera? A wedding?” Clawhauser guessed.

“A christening, actually.  Mutual-- er, friend’s baby, kind of a thing.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet,” the cheetah squealed a little.

“Well, I’d better be, uh,” Nick turned and was abruptly taken aback by a large elephant in blue standing directly in his path.  On first glance Nick could tell just by her face that, one, the officer had heard the whole conversation, and, two, that she was currently memorizing what he looked like, filing it away in her mind for future use.

She nodded at him, trunk waving a little.  “You’re Judy’s friend, right?” She asked.

“Yes, I’m Nick. Nick Wilde,” he said quickly.  He didn’t really have the time to explain the situation if he was going to make the round trip to Judy’s apartment and back. The side effect was the rush made him sound more nervous than he’d like.

“Did I see your name on the academy application list?” She asked.

“Could have, I put it there.”

That seemed to satisfy the elephant and she stepped gingerly around him, making her way past the dispatch counter.  “Well, good luck.  Try not to die,” she said amicably, or at least as amicably as one could say the phrase  _ try not to die _ .

Clawhauser told him it would make sense later and shooed him out the door.

* * *

 

He’d been in Judy’s apartment one other time, and even then very briefly.  It wasn’t exactly space enough for one person to hang around in comfortably, let alone two.  He’d been gently ribbing her about finding a new one off and on. 

The advantage was he didn’t have to waste any time looking for her things.  Her dress was literally the first thing hanging in her makeshift closet, a lone rod jutting out of one wall that held her wardrobe, shoulder to shoulder in a neat row.  The shoes, back strappy things with stubby heels on the bottom, were the only things sitting on the floor.  He grabbed the shoes in one paw and the dress, hanger and all, got draped over his arm.

The gift was indeed quite tiny.  Just one of the marbles he’d had as a kid could’ve rolled over and crushed it with ease.  He carefully pinched the bitty pink box in between his thumb and index finger and tucked it into his jacket pocket.  It was then he noticed the cardstock with gold trim sitting face up on the table.

He only just glanced at it, but that was enough to stop his momentum entirely.  He froze, hand on Judy’s door, and read the whole thing over once.  And then again.  And again.  He plucked it off the table and held it at the end of his nose, as if that would make the letters change.  And when they didn’t he sprung back into motion.  He took the card with him, hastily locking Judy’s door and running down the hall as fast as he could.

* * *

 

They arrived at the ZPD almost simultaneously.  It was thirty-five minutes after five and Judy was frantic.  She pulled up to the curb and parked the squad car, she’d already killed the siren a few blocks back.  Nick spent a very awkward bus ride trying to avoid eye contact with all curious bystanders staring at the fox in a suit holding a woman’s outfit.  As soon as he got off, he made a break for the police station, running around the corner to see Judy get out of her car.

“Perfect timing,” Judy shouted as she bounded toward him.  “Just give me two seconds to-”

“Judy, wait a second,” he started, a little out of breath.  She made a grab for the dress hanging at his elbow and when he pulled back she shot him a very confused stare.

“Nick, we don’t have time-” she made another lunge for the dress and he twisted away from her, holding out the gold trimmed card with his other paw.

“Look, I found your invitation,” he explained.  “You didn’t get the date wrong.  It says Saturday, look at it.”

Judy’s large eyes narrowed.  She snatched the invitation out of his paw, reading it over again.

“He gave us separate days,” Nick rambled, now fully agitated. “Either that’s the most incompetent typo in history or Mr. Big’s trying to split us up.  He told me to come Friday and you to come Saturday.  Which means there are two different events and I’m banking one of ‘em isn’t a baby shower.”

Judy was glaring now, her ears fell back and her eyebrows pressed into a straight line.  The perky young lady all star-eyed and excited about becoming a godmother was gone.  She was Officer Hopps, and she was pissed.

“Get in the car,” she ordered, shoving the invitation into her pocket.

“What?”

“We’re getting to the bottom of this.  Get in the car.”  She marched to her squad car, throwing the driver’s side door open.  Nick slid in on the other side, the purple dress lying forgotten over his knees as he took his seat.

“You have a plan?” He asked.

“Direct approach,” she explained succinctly.  She tapped at her phone, still plugged into the console on her dashboard, and had it dial.  On the third ring it picked up.

“Hiya Judy!”

“Hey Fru!” Judy sang, switching into chipper mode. Her smile wasn't all there, and the disconnect between her face and her voice was a little disconcerting to look at.  “Just wanted to let you know Nick and I are gonna be a little late tonight, but we are on our way.”

There was a short pause on the other end and then Fru’s voice emerged, bright and cheerful as ever.  “Oh don’t even worry about it, hun.  These things always start late.  Just get here when you can.”

“Okay, we’re on our way. Save us good seats.” Judy frowned.

“Will do, dear.  Drive safe!”

“Will do! Bye, Fru!”

“Byyeee!”

Judy switched off the call and slumped into her seat.

“Well, that cleared everything up,” Nick said, facetious.

“What if the event is today? What if I got the fake day?”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“You heard her, though.” Judy looked at him, eyes wide and faintly worried.  “She didn’t try to correct me.”

“What do you want to do?” Nick asked.  “We could try calling one of the polars.  I don’t think Kev has changed his number in a couple years.”

“No.  We gotta get down there.”

“But what if isn’t-- y’know?”

“It’s your last chance to bail,” she paused, paw hovering over the gear shift, waiting for him to decide. Their eyes met.

Nick waited one long, expectant moment, and then cracked the car door open, turning away from her.

“Nick!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he laughed.  She was making that face he liked, wide eyed with a little crinkle over her nose. He sat back into the passenger seat and buckled in. The door slammed shut.  “Hit the road, Carrots.”

* * *

 

It was a quarter after six when they arrived.  The church was in a very old, quiet part of Tundratown, many of the buildings had already closed for the night. The decorated facade included a short, snow covered flight of stairs and a large stained glass rose window over the double doors.

Judy hadn’t bothered to change and just pulled the dress on over her uniform.  The sleeves weren’t as long as her uniform and the blue showed through on her forearms and her collar, which looked odd.  The little heeled shoes were completely unsuited for their surroundings, but Judy insisted they kept her toes covered.  Her belt had to go on top of the dress, it wouldn’t lay right otherwise and Judy was reluctant to part with it.

“No one will say anything,” Nick assured her.  “Just act like it’s normal and no one will even notice.”

“We’re walking into a mob party and I’m in cop gear,” Judy said, as if she just realized how that would look.

Nick forgoed pointing out that he’d been worried about that exact conflict of interest since they got invited to this thing, deciding that it was a little too late to back out and the ‘I told you so’ would only make things worse. “It’s not a mob party.  It’s your goddaughter’s christening,” he said.

Judy smiled a little.  She paused at the front double doors.  “You look very nice tonight,” she said in a casual, by the by sort of way.  Polite small talk before heading into the unknown.

He pulled at his tie.  “It’s not cop chic, but--” he shrugged.  “Incidentally, you don’t have an extra tranq gun in the back of the car or anything?  So we match?”

“‘Fraid not.  Those are for cops anyways, mister.”

“I’m almost a sort of a cop in training.  That’s gotta count for something.”

“Uh huh.  If things get ugly make sure you stay behind me, alright.”

“Yeah, yeah.”  He stuck his paws in his pockets, contacting Judy’s spare key.  “Before I forget,” he held it out to her, “here’s your key back.”

Judy started to take it, and then stopped halfway through the reach.  “You keep it,” she insisted.  “Just in case.”

His fingers closed around the little key.  “In case of what?”

“You never know.”


End file.
